


Just a kiss

by Piccola_Poe



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22971136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piccola_Poe/pseuds/Piccola_Poe
Summary: John kisses Arthur, John is left wondering what this feeling is inside of him for the other man.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde, John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

It was a kiss right; Dutch kissed Hosea on the top of his head sometimes. So what was wrong with climbing on top of a very drunk and dangerous man like Arthur Morgan, who was out cold. It had been a dumb idea anyway. Going into the man’s tent and getting on top of him and saying childish names to his passed out face.

“And you know everyone says your a pretty boy.” John slurred, looking down at Arthur between his legs. “Real pretty man.” Leaning down, running his hands through Arthur’s hair. “Why you aren’t taken or married yet is a mystery to me, but I would have you any day.” John kissed the sleeping beauty, soft and sweet. He took his time to taste him, tobacco and whiskey with something sweet. 

John could not help. Feeling guilty with himself, fawning over a guy as a girl would dammit, was not right, but why did he love him so much. Well, what was there not to like about Arthur Morgan.

Arthur can be a selfless person who will think of others and more practically about situations. He is cunning and somewhat intelligent.  He demonstrates more self-awareness than almost everyone else in the gang, allowing him to maintain his calm demeanour, especially under pressure, and not fall under the weight of vindicating himself. Arthur is quite progressive in his views concerning women and minorities.  He was disgusted by racism and had no qualms with the women in camp doing work traditionally associated with men.

Arthur Morgan can also be cold, brooding outlaw who often resorts to violence and has very few qualms about killing. At his worst, he could be extremely ruthless and utterly unsympathetic to the people he hurts, if he has too. Only shows that any man can be like a coin and easily flipped. 

But John still loves the fool and had done so since he was seventeen. Old enough to know what love was. Arthur Morgan was John Marston’s boyhood crush. The only person who knew about this was Hosea Matthews. He did not judge him; the older man had told John that he had loved many people over the years. It felt great to know that he was not the only one with mixed feelings towards the sexes.

John liked having sex with women. He had some men, but Arthur was the man that John wanted in his life forever. If John could have a shotgun wedding, then get some unwanted children and land. He was sure that Arthur would except; he would make sure that Arthur was dependent on by people who love him. The loyal bastard would have no choice but to stay and play family with John. It was a sweet dream that John could jerk off too. John had never even thought of doing this with anyone else. No one could do what Arthur could set his mind to; Together, they would be an unbeatable pair. Yeah, John like the thought of that.

“What the fuck John, what you doing on me, boy?” Arthur mutters and trying to kick John off him. “Did you bite me!”

“Oh shit!” John thought as he gets off Arthur and makes a run for it.

“You idiot, John Marston. Son of a bitch!” Arthur yells after him. But John is long gone; being quick on his feet is one of John’s skills. 

“Why are you yelling. People are trying to sleep, Arthur,” Hosea says, looking at him from the fire with a book in his hand. 

“I hope you two boys are not spitting in each other faces like you use to do,” Dutch added smirking at Hosea. “Thought that I had beaten that dirty habit out of you two boys.” Dutch was sitting beside Hosea on the ground by the log.

“It wasn’t none of that Dutch!” Arthur called back to them. “He was up to something, and I know it.”

“He was going to tell you that you snore or punch you,” Dutch replied, turning his eyes back to the fire. 

“And here I thought you two had grown up a bit or I had hoped so.” Hosea sighed.

“Bloody bastard I’ll get you later,” Arthur growled to himself as he decides to go back to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hosea shook his head and grumbled to himself. Watching John scatter about like one of those quick little sparrows. It was darting to the ground collecting twigs. This sad little sparrow was too silly to use them to build a nest; it was fluttering around with no idea what to do.  John was cautious after that little stunt he pulled on Arthur, and Arthur was now hyper-aware of John like a spooked horse. Arthur was waiting for John to do something so the man could beat the shit out of him. All this idiocy was going to lead Hosea into an early grave if he could not get John to talk with Arthur.

All the induced sighing caused Dutch to look up from his book. "Hosea my dear friend, you can not lead them out of every problem that jumps out at them for the rest of their lives." 

"I know that, but this idiocy has to stop now." Rubbing his forehead indicating of a headache coming on. "I am only going to push, and the rest will be their doing."

"Whatever you say, my friend.  You are the man of peace around this camp," Dutch replied with a curled smile, returning his attention to the book in front of him.

"I hate seeing idiots hurt themselves." Hosea watched them act like two stirred up feral cats in a back alleyway; he knew there was going to be an explosion. Every situation in the camp that ended on a knives edge was usually Hosea's to solve. What would Dutch do without him, answering all the problems to keep the sanity. What a thankless job it was, he should make Dutch do more favours for him in the foreseeable future.

"If it were any other idiots, you would be laughing, but because it is ours your helping." Dutch's smile grew more prominent at the thought of Hosea's bleeding heart. Dutch loved him with all his soul in return. The man had a good streak in him. How he had ended up on this path, not even Dutch knew the truth; it was a touchy subject. So Dutch knew that this one had to stay at the side until he was ready to tell it.

Hosea's good fortune seemed to do him a favour. As John appeared from the back of the tents, he was heading back to his own after having lunch on the bank. "John, the man that I wanted to talk too." John jumped after Hosea's voice came out of nowhere.

"Hey, Hosea. What can I do for you?" John said, thinking that Hosea wanted him to do more chores.

"Well, I thought that we could go fishing together?" Hearing the groan coming from the young man before him, Hosea knew that this was going to be a hard sale.

"John, do what Hosea says. Is that so hard to do boy?" Dutch's commanding voice spoke with what he wanted John to do. Hosea was happy for once to see the resistance die down in the man. Hosea knew well that John hated fishing and was terrible at it. He was hoping that John would catch on. That Hosea would never ask him out to fish, after trying and failing so many times. He wished that John was not so thick and could catch onto a sly plan when it was building.

"Sure thing Dutch," John said as he went to get his horse ready.

"Why thank you, Dutch." Hosea nodded to the man.

"Happy to oblige anytime." Twirling his hand around as he bowed his head towards Hosea.

"Only when it pleases." The insinuating fox smirked and turned toward his horse.

"Oh, you wound me." He clenched his chest like a knife to the heart. Dutch could be a goon when it suited him. He sat there watching the pair leaving the campsite, heading off to another fishing spot. Dutch could only daydream about all the fun that they had together at the previous place. He was looking forward to a second time with Hosea very soon. The devilish thoughts made him hungry, and he had so many things to do, other than taking care of an urge by himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Hosea could not help but think he had never seen anyone look so sour. If the man could get paid for such a natural talent, he would be a millionaire. At his side, John sat ass in the grass with his shoes off by the bank. “Do not worry about the fishing John.” He spoke gently, casting his eyes out onto the beautiful quiet river that lay before them. “I did not bring you here to fish.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” John was all too aware of what the older man was getting on about, and he hated it. John knew that he had screwed up, he did not want to bring it up again or think about it, but how could he not. He was going to have to face Arthur sometime with the truth or a lie.

“Of course, you do not.” His eyes cast downward to the younger man laying on the grass. “But we are going too.” And there was that miserable grumbling again. “Come on now, John, you can not run from this forever.” 

“Yeah, why not?” John struggled with his temper.

“Everyone gets tired of running at some point,” Hosea muttered maybe to John or himself, he was not quite sure. They sure had been moving for a long time now, and he was getting older.

“I..I just can’t Hosea!” John yelled, clenching the grass in his fists, tightening around it but not pulling it out of the ground. “Arthur will kill me; he will hate me; he sees me as nothing but a kid.”

“So there are all the doubts then?” The older man hummed partaking in the exquisite view again. “I think you do not understand Arthur as I do.”

“So what don’t I know about him.”

“It is not what you do not know, but what you are not listening too.” He knew that John was not dumb, but he was almost pleading for some kind of logic within his skull to come forth. “If I could give you my years of wisdom, I would because it would make this situation a lot easier on both of us.”

It sure would.” It would be wishful thinking if he could be like Hosea. Hosea knew quite a lot of things; the man was always learning something. His great jeopardy had only aged his knowledge like a bottle of fine wine. What man would not want that, but it was not just his willingness to learn but to understand his past, many men would drown their history away than face it as Hosea had. 

“Yes, I would, but we can not share things that need learning" Hosea replied. “See we both know Arthur. He is hurting, lost and only inflicting more pain upon himself, the slow man’s death if you think about it, the only thing keeping him alive is us.” He said calmly to John knowing that this was a touchy subject. No one wanted to talk about the black dog that lay deep inside of every being on the face of this planet. Many wanted to deny the existence of such a thing that could cripple in destroy a man with only sadness. “Just tell him the truth. Do not leave him dangling like that crowd was going to leave you hanging.”

John jumped back as if a piece of hot metal had burned him. “Don’t go saying shit like that Hosea!” John hoarsely yelled at the man; it was like he could still feel the hangman’s noose around his neck.

“Well, something has got to give.” John just continued to claw away from him. “If this is what makes you move. Then move John. If there is anyone in this world who has faced death more, it is you.” Hosea said tonelessly. He could see John shivering as the young man flailed himself around trying to get everything together and head back to camp. He could only hope that John would tell his truths and get it over and done.

“I’ll send someone to be with you,” John called back to Hosea, turning Old boy into the direction that he wanted to go.

“That is fine with me, John. Make sure that they are a better fisherman than you.” Of course, the older man had to rub that one in, John did not even like fishing, as he took off in a cloud of dust. 


	4. Chapter 4

John rode back like a whirlwind, showering the camp with his cloud of dust. Luckily it was just after lunch, so most of the camp members would be busy or still enjoying themselves. Even Miss Grimshaw was not around. What luck John had for once because he was in no mood to have anyone stop him from achieving what he needed to do.

"Wo, son where's the fire!" Dutch stopped his horse in the middle of the camp. "I'll take care of your horse this one time, John." Plucking the cigar out of his mouth and poking John in the chest. 

"Hosea is…" 

"Now, I know where Hosea is. I'll be heading there myself soon." Dutch cut him off quite quickly. "Arthur is down by the river with his journal." Gently slapping John on the shoulder and leading Old Boy away. John was sure that he could feel Dutch's smile even with his back turned, what a pair those two made really, they had the whole thing planned from the beginning and John was sure of it.

John took a shortcut through the dense forest and bushes, a few sticks catching him here and there, pushing forward to the spot that was the most picturesque side of the riverbank. That is where Arthur would be finding the best places to empty his worries and enjoy mother nature. There alone with his journal in hand sketching away. 

If a quiet lake could tell you the level of tranquillity it had within itself, that would be Arthur with his journal drawing away. John should have been looking where he was going, he slipped and fell straight to the riverbank. Kicking up dust and stones upon his tumble and scaring off the resident ducks. 

Arthur was aware but not on high alert; he always seemed to know when John was crawling around. "John for Christ sake! What are you doing here?" Arthur sure looked mad. "You scared off the ducks." He points in the direction of the scared animals that had taken flight.

"I'm sorry I didn't see them there." The younger man said, looking worried as he could see the ducks flying into the afternoon sun. 

  
"Damn, I was close to finished," Arthur muttered to himself, John could see the drawing in his journal roughly from where he stood. All the beautiful lines all in lead pencil, John was jealous of such skill. No wonder he was third in command, he shined as bright as his blonde hair and lovely smile. There was not much that Arthur could not do. John felt jealous, sure, but being around Arthur, he felt safe. 

"Were you going to hunt them?" John asked, and Arthur shook his head.

"There was no need for that when there is enough food on one's plate." Arthur pointed out. The camp did not need any more food; they were well stocked. 

"Arthur, I need to talk to you, it's important," John said hoarsely, trying his hardest to keep his mind to the task, no backing out now. 

"What, Dutch wants us to do a job or something else?" Arthur asked he sounded like he was not in the mood of doing anything for Dutch.

  
"There is no job, but it is important to me." _"Please don't be an ass today, Arthur"_ he internally thought to himself. John knows that he had annoyed him too much.

"Well now, since you ruined my leisure time and you know that I am not going to listen to you." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Arthur, please."

"All right, say what you have to say then," He said, frowning down at John. _"So he is going to give me the time of day_ ". "Well, are you going to say it or not?" He grumbled, putting his journal in his bag that was laying on the ground. "You came all this way to annoy me; now you can't say it?"

"It was easy coming here," John said, pressing his lips together tightly. "You know that I am not good with words."

"None of us are. John," He answered truthfully. "So come on out with it, it can't be that bad?" 

"It might be," John whispered, looking down at the ground, he could not look at Arthur for fear of doing something stupid. 

"You didn't burn down my tent again, did you?" Arthur almost laughed at the memory of John knocking over the kerosene lamp and burning down the tent. Dutch and Hosea had a hell of a time putting that fire out.

"I was only young; it was an accident. It was our tent at the time, remember." John sulked. Arthur could be such a bastard sometimes, always bringing up shit that would be lost to the past if everyone would forget it. 

"Yeah well, it still wasn't funny."

"I love you," John muttered, touching the scars on his cheek. It seemed to be a new habit of John's now that it had healed up.

"What did you say?" Arthur asked, having not heard John the first time. He could tell that John was bothered by something to mutter and stumble his way through talking to him of all people. 

"I…love…you." John felt his voice tightening like it was trying to kill him before he could get the words out. 

"What?" Arthur repeated coming closer to hear what the young man had said. 

"I love you. I mean what I said." John's voice was shaking a little. 

"Ok, John, look. If we were siblings I guess, you would be the dumb little brother that I would always choose to have." Arthur grinned and playfully shoved John. "Even if you are a pain in my ass." 

"No that's not what I mean." John felt all riled up now. He was never known for being the calm one; he was quick to spring into action and quick to anger. "You thick bastard." He frustratingly shouts out. "I love you, Arthur bloody Morgan, with whatever we humans are. I have feelings for you and you alone!" John came closer to Arthur, reaching up to kiss him sweetly on the lips. "See like that." 

"John what was that."

"What do you bloody mean, what was that!" John frantically barked at him.

The bigger man was seizing him by the collar, pulling John even closer. "That kiss was a lot of slobber, are trying to be a dog, licking my face?" 

John's tensed shoulders relaxed. "You have got to be bloody shitting me. How dare you say that about a man standing here confessing things to your face that might get me killed!" John took a strike at his shoulder.

"I didn't mean it," Arthur murmured, gently smoothing his fingers over John's scarred cheek. 

John leaned into Arthur's touch as Arthur brushed against the younger man's lips going in for a slow and delicate kiss. "Did you like that?" Arthur murmured. 

"Like it… Can we do it forever?" John clasped his hand on Arthur's shirt, crushed the fabric between them as Arthur. He hooked his arms around John's waist.

"You know that I will have to let you go sooner or later?" Arthur whispered, closing his eyes tightly as he deepened the embrace. 

"Yes, later, but not now," John murmured against his lover's collarbone. He was breathing in the scent of him. The smell of Arthur bloody Morgan, and it was brilliant. 

**Author's Note:**

> I used some notes on Arthur from the Red Dead Wiki page.  
> Comments 100% welcome.  
> I am working alone on this if there are any imperfections you know why.


End file.
